


You're Mine

by KyraEllis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyraEllis/pseuds/KyraEllis
Summary: Littlefinger goes after Sansa for what he wants.***Warning: Explicit with rape/non-consensual sex. This is fiction and I do not support these dynamics in real world relationships.***





	You're Mine

Littlefinger found Sansa in the dark hallway just outside her bedroom. It was late, past midnight, and neither of them had any business being up and about the castle. His reason -- the hunt for this woman he had just found. Hers? Insomnia. Inability to sleep with all the problems her family was facing. Rob, Bran, Arya. All befalling tragedy more extensive than she could bear to think about too long.

He loved the scent of her. That was the first thing he had noticed when they met years before in the royal courtroom, he just hired to assist the family. She was young then, underage and not yet ripe for the picking, her body yet to be flushed out into its gorgeous roundness and her face yet to develop it's stubborn and breakable features. But he knew. He knew even then the beauty that she would grow to become. And so he watched her, and he waiting for his time to make her his own.

He pounced before she had the chance to even be aware of his presence. Pinning her up against the cold, hard stone of the drafty hallway. He'd paid her guards not to be around, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. One of his hands covered her mouth firmly, and he pressed his full body up against hers, holding her in place with his torso and hips. While she was still stunned with shock he quickly whipped out the gag from his pocket and bound her mouth with a practiced ease. He could see that she realized her mistake in not yelling while she had the chance, when her eyes widened round and scared. He had her, and his prick was already throbbing at capturing her body with his own.

His only regret was that with her mouth bound as it was, he couldn't kiss those luscious lips of hers. No matter. He would make do. With his signature sly grin, he leaned in and licked the side of her neck. She shuddered with revulsion.

"Ah, my sweet," he murmured into her ear. "Not interested in me yet, are you? I've seen the way you try to slide past me in the courtyards and the royal hall. I know how much you despise me. But I see something else too," he growled. "I see how bad your slutty cunt wants me. I see how hard you have to work to deny what you want. How much you are an animal, just like me."

This time she shuddered deeper and he drew back to see the anger and residual traces of fear in her eyes. She struggled and he took the opportunity to shift. He spun her around and shoved her hard against the wall at the same time that he captured her hands behind her back, holding them in place with one of his own.

"I'll teach you not to fight me, little one," he whispered. "I'll teach you to love what I've got for you."

As he spoke he roughly thrust his hand between her and the wall and found her breasts. He fondled them for a moment over her clothing before plunging a hand into the crevice and soft flesh below.

These were the sweet globes he dreamed of holding for nights on end, picturing how it would feel to touch her skin, to strip her naked, as he held is own member and pumped wildly. He came like this every night before bed, needing the image of his beloved to cool his hot temper before he could sleep.

Only now that he cupped her curves with his very real hand, could he understand how laughably short his imaginings fell from the real thing. She was warm and giving, like cream beneath his calloused palm and fingers.

She was making noises now. Whimpers of fear and discomfort, as she still tried to twist away from him.

"Stop it!" he barked, as he shoved his hand deeper. "You'll learn to like what I give you, and beg for it. I'll make you come so hard you hate yourself and love me despite what your own mind wants. Your body will be mine."

He swiped his fingers across her left nipple and she froze. He noticed that the ripple that went through her body this time was different than before. Angry, afraid, yes. But also...curious.

He pulled out for a quick moment to wet his finger before sliding it again across her sensitive spot, gently rubbing circles, using the barest of pressure. Sansa's body stilled and her breathing changed just a hint. She pressed almost imperceptibly into him with her beautiful ass, and his cock responded, hardening to a firm rod that he ground against her globes. She gasped.

"Not so bad, is it now, my sweet?"

He continued his ministrations as he added his tongue again, nibbling at her ear, kissing her neck, nuzzling into her long red hair. He wanted more.

As quick as with the gag, he took her by surprise and bound her wrists with the rope he'd brought. She fought him of course, but he sensed a confusion. Her body was starting to want him, and the knowledge made his own breathing hot and heavy. He shoved her back against the wall and this time reached under her dress with his now free hand, so he could rub her breasts and finger the parts of her she most tried to hide. He found her wetness easily. And yes, she was indeed quite wet for him.

"What was all that fighting about dear?" he asked. "You seem that you are quite eager for what I have to offer."

She squealed in frustration and rage.

He thrust a finger down into the folds of her sex, wriggling them through past her nub and up into her cleft, quickly finding the spot he wanted. With his index and middle finger inside her, probing, he began to brush her clit with his thumb at the same time that he renewed his efforts over her nipples. She was splayed before him, utterly and completely his, and he was practically salivating at the power he held over her in this moment.

She was undone. Her breath was all gasps now as he manipulated his fingers and pressed against her with his cock. He breathed hot and heavy right next to her ear as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. They grew slick fast, and he used the moisture to lubricate her whole area, her folds, her clit, even sliding back once to past her first hole and up toward the second.

Sansa writhed against him, moaning. All her pretenses of denying him were over now. Her sounds were ragged and wanton, her movements pulling away and pushing into him in rapidly alternating moments. She was still fighting her own body's desires, but she seemed to have acknowledged that they would take over in the end, would overwhelm her with the pleasure he knew he would give her. Her pelvis began to rotate, grinding up against his sex as though wishing they could make closer contact. Good. He had her right where he wanted.

He stopped and withdrew his hands, finally flipping her to face him again.

Her eyes were wild with confusion and lust...and frustration. He smiled at her and she flushed. It looked as though she realized how far he had pushed her past propriety and her sense of being a good girl. She would never be as pure as before when he was done with her. Every time he walked past her in the throne room, he would know, and she would know, that he had been inside her. She would never tell. She couldn't handle the shame of letting others know she was ruined.

"Not so bad, is it now, my sweet?" he purred. "My fingers know what they're doing. All they want is to make you happy. You don't have to fight it. Would you like some more?"

This was the moment he'd been waiting for. He wanted to make her choose him. He wanted her lust to take over her mind and force her into the shameful abandon of sex with him. He could see in her eyes that she fought it, but in the end of course, the decision was inevitable. Her panting, and her heaving chest told the full story. Sansa dropped her head and nodded yes.

Littlefinger needed no more than this. He was already bursting with the restraint he'd mustered so far. He moaned in pleasure and shoved her in front of him, pushing her quickly along the short way to her bedroom. He pulled the door open like it was an emergency and thrust her inside, the heavy oak panel shutting closed firmly behind them. Her sumptuous bed welcomed them, and he threw her upon it, her arms still bound and gag still in place. Suddenly, he knew he needed them off. There was no one around to hear anyway. He'd made sure of that.

He pulled his dagger and cut her bonds and the gag quickly. She let out a sharp yell. Not a word really, but an exclamation of surprise. Interesting, he thought. She didn't really want to yell for help.

Littlefinger undid the laces of her dress in record time, and ripped off the bodice and the skirt, and all the layers underneath until she lay before him in utter naked glory.

"You're a monster," she told him, between gritted teeth.

"True," he replied. "But I sure seem to be a monster you love."

With that he was upon her in a frenzy of final energy. He covered that mouth he so coveted with his own, he placed his hand once again below to warm her back to the bodily state he'd had her at in the hallway. She moaned again for him, even as she called him a bastard, a lowcount, as she began to scream in earnest for him to stop and she writhed again to remove him even as she thrust deeper onto his fingers.

He was ready. He undid his britches, freed his aching member and thrust into her. Sansa cried in combined pleasure and shame.

He moved slow, in and out in languid strokes to draw out her humiliation. He would make her quiver before he took her at last. She whimpered and moaned, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.

"Don't," she whispered. And he ignored her, continuing to draw her out with his patient rhythm.

He fluttered his fingers between them to reach her clit again, and she sobbed. He kissed her deep and she melted into the soft mattress. He began to speed up, unsure how he had ever managed to restrain himself this long. He was longer and harder and thicker than he had ever been, and he used the full of his manhood to drive into her now, pumping in and out and splaying her legs wide with his own so she was spread in the most impolite manner possible.

Sansa was matching his thrusts now, and clutching his back with her fingernails, likely leaving scratches he would remember her by in the morning.

"Please, please, please," she kept saying. And he knew she meant for him both to stop and keep going.

Finally, she could hold no more and she came in a rush of noise and movement, arching her back against the sheets with a final cry as he thrust his last motions into her and emptied his stream into her cleft. He loved the sensation of releasing himself into her, of knowing that his seed was working in her body, maybe even upward to plant root in her womb. He loved that he owned her, body, mind, and soul. And no matter what happened afterward, she would never ever be able to deny that he had brought her to the edge of herself, had submersed her so utterly and completely into her own deepest pleasure and her most shameful undoing.

"That's more like it," he whispered as he slowed his tempo to the rhythm of her aftershocks. "I know what you need darling. I know what you need, and you can never keep me out."


End file.
